


E Equals MC Stop Kicking My Chair!

by April_Showers



Series: Imagines Alternate Universe Volume 1 [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Airplanes, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, F/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 18:07:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3905794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/April_Showers/pseuds/April_Showers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma was not one who was quick to anger, but if riled up enough she transformed from kind Bruce Banner to raging Incredible Hulk-and Jemma was about to turn into the green big monster at the passenger kicking like Jackie Chan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	E Equals MC Stop Kicking My Chair!

**Author's Note:**

> 'Hey asshole, stop kicking the back of my seat it's a ten hour flight.' AU

 

            Jemma Simmons normally likes airplane flights. It was a time to catch up on sleep, reading, or films she neglected to see while she was holed up in her room studying. Being the youngest person in her Year 12 class was difficult; she didn’t relate to the kids two years older than her, and having skipped two grades yet still being smarter than the majority of them did not help.

            So, Jemma hopefully thought that the ten-hour plane ride from London to LA would be worth it. She had received a letter that invited her to attend a SHIELD Academy Open House. Jemma, being an excellent researcher and speed-Googler, complied a whole document of information, and found she was the youngest person ever to be invited to attend the school for the scientifically and intellectually gifted; well, her and someone else her exact age.

            She slipped her earphones on and drifted off to the melodious sounds of Bach, when she felt a swift lurch in her chair; made by a kick from the seat behind her. At first Jemma believed it was an accident made by awkward shifting; however, this sentiment did not last long as another sharp kick was felt in her rear. Jemma tried to let the gentle croon of cellos and violins wash over her, but the subsequent five kicks did not go unnoticed.

            Jemma was not one who was quick to anger, but if riled up enough she transformed from kind Bruce Banner to raging Incredible Hulk-and Jemma was about to turn into the green big monster at the passenger kicking like Jackie Chan.

            “Alright, I’ve positively had enough of your incessant kicking. It’s more than likely causing very unattractive bruises to my hips. If you don’t stop I’ll alert the flight attendant!” Jemma scolded. She made eye contact with the teen boy seated behind her, but immediately wished she hadn’t. His eyes were a beautiful gray-blue color she only thought was possible in a chemical reaction. And his smattering of freckles across his pale nose did nothing to ease the light flapping of butterflies in her stomach.

            “’M sorry. I was measuring the velocity of your chair movement compared to that of one in a car.” The boy spoke in a low, heavy Scottish accent and held up a notebook with several messy equations and tables, including the fresh pencil marks of his findings and calculations.

            “That’s impressive. Did you calculate my weight into the equations?”

            “Yeah, and the weight of the chair.”

            “Nice.” Jemma turned around to face the front, but had a thought and whipped back around to the teen, who was scribbling furiously.

            “How old are you?”

            “I’m fifteen. You?”

            “I’m fifteen too. But, I’m in year 12.”

            “Me too! Are you flying to LA for the-oh, never mind,” the boy suddenly remembered that he couldn’t give away why he was travelling so far away from home in case an enemy force was nearby.

            Jemma pulled the crinkled invitation from her jacket pocket and showed the teen slyly as his eyes widened to saucers.

            “You too!”

            “You must be the other youngest person ever! It’s nice to meet someone as scientifically gifted! My name’s Jemma.” She stuck her hand awkwardly over the seat to grasp it tightly in hers. She noticed how warm it was and maybe got too excited over how well it fit in his.

            “I’m Leo, but most people call me Fitz; well, except for my mum.”

            “Fitz, I like that. My last name is Simmons, but I just go by Jemma.”

            “If we’re put together for labs, they’ll call us Fitzsimmons,” he remarked shyly.

            “Fitzsimmons. That sounds really nice,” she replied, holding his gaze firmly.

 


End file.
